


sow a character, and you reap a destiny

by meggsy



Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 04:44:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16825384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggsy/pseuds/meggsy
Summary: A series of short oneshots and drabbles about minor NPCs.Chapter 2: Researcher Siris, and the discovery of a lifetimeChapter 3: Douglas Bird and Fion, on being a professional





	1. walk with the pack (cydwenn, hraggorn, lietta, ghreon, qiqqi'rittiq)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Cydwenn** is found in Skovtrolde Hearthstead in Dredgehaunt Cliffs. She looks after orphaned children there, including a norn girl **Lietta** , a charr cub **Ghreon** , and a skritt kit **Qiqqi'rittiq**.
> 
> Wolf Shaman **Hraggorn** stays at the nearby Wolf's Lair Shrine and helps to look after the children as well.

"They're doing well today," Hraggorn says fondly, setting down the day's bounty on the table.

He watches the children play with the sleek wolf that accompanied him here. Lietta struggles to both keep a hold of her bunny while also petting the wolf between the ears, Ghreon amuses himself by batting at the wolf's tail and trying to snatch it between his paws, and Qiqqi'rittiq is curled up on the wolf's back, white fur on white fur making it hard to spot him as he naps. Hraggorn had asked his most patient wolf to come along today, and she looks to be bearing the attention with a steadfast calm, letting her fur be tugged and her space be crowded.

"They are," Cydwenn agrees. She's already started sorting everything out, meat separate from foraged herbs and vegetables, furs neatly stacked away so they can be prepared for later. It's a good haul, as always. The children won't be going hungry any time soon.

"How's the shrine?" Cydwenn asks.

"As well as it usually is. Some Sons of Svanir tried to stop by to vandalize it last night." He allows himself a ferocious grin. "The wolves and I took care of that easily enough."

The mild look of concern that she shoots him lingers for a while, but after a moment of observation the sylvari seems to see that no harm has come to him. She lets out a quiet sigh and nods. "Will you be staying until dinner? The children have been wanting to play Destiny's Edge and we need one more to play Logan Thackeray."

Almost as if they can sense the topic of discussion, the children look up as one.

"Are you talking about Destiny's Edge?" says Lietta, now trying to stand and run over to him in addition to still holding onto her rabbit. "I wanna be Eir, I can be Eir with a bunny, I don't need a wolf for Garm, Garm can be a bunny, right? Cydwenn, you said Garm could be a bunny!"

"I did," Cydwenn says with a nod. "You can most certainly be Eir, Lietta. And Ghreon, you can be Rytlock, and Qiqqi'rittiq, you can be Zojja, just like we talked about."

"And you're Caithe!" Ghreon exclaims. "And Hraggorn, you gotta be Logan, so you can be my best friend!"

"Noooo!" says Qiqqi'rittik, wiping the sleepiness from his eyes. He almost tumbles off the wolf, but she shifts just enough to catch him at the last moment, softening his fall. "Hraggorn my friend too!"

"And mine!" Lietta chimes in.

"Now, now, Hraggorn is a friend to all of us, isn't that right?" Cydwenn steps into the fray, placing a hand on Ghreon's shoulder when it looks like he's about to retort. "Just like how Destiny's Edge is all friends with one another. Hraggorn, are you all right with playing Logan? They've been talking about this for days."

Hraggorn feels his smile melt into something softer as he watches Cydwenn with the children. "For my little wolf pack? Anything."


	2. field test (researcher siris)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Researcher **Siris** is found to the north of the Allied Encampment in the Domain of Kourna. You might recognize him by his very... persistent line of dialogue.

Siris can't read the numbers on the Rez-o-Matic's display because he's so tired, barely able to keep his eyes open, barely able to get them to focus. But he _knows_ he's right. He knows this will work.

It has to. There has to be a way to reverse the Awakening process, or else he'll have wasted almost three days of his life for nothing, or else he'll have stolen the spare parts from the camp cache for nothing, or else his krewe will have died for nothing, or else he'll be the only one left with only his guilt and self-pity and-

It has to work. It _will_.

Siris picks up the Rez-o-Matic and begins making his way down to where the raptors are kept. Gorrik and Taimi barely pay him any attention as he leaves, too focused on whatever it is they're doing. Siris doesn't know. Hasn't cared to check. This is more important.

There's a group of Awakened Inquest nearby. He can test it on them, and then everyone will see that it's worked, and he'll be lauded and celebrated but most important of all he'll have his krewe back.

As he's making his way to where the raptors are tied up, he spots someone striding through the camp with a confidence he could only dream of having. The swell of hope in his chest grows even stronger as he recognizes the figure.

If anyone can help him, it'd be the Commander. Before he can even think about it, he's already calling out, "Commander, Commander! I'm on the verge of something incredible. I need your help. This could change everything!"


	3. masters of their craft (douglas bird, fion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Douglas Bird** and **Fion** are both Guild Hall merchants that sell decorations. Douglas is where you get your standard decorations like candles and bushes and lamp posts from. Fion, meanwhile, sells the more esoteric decorations that usually require trophies. Given what some of those trophies are... well, poor Fion, I suppose.

The agitated sylvari throws his hands up in the air. "A tentacle! They just- they came into my workplace swinging chopped off tentacles around! Who does that? Are they all actually insane?"

Douglas snickers, holding up his latest creation to the light streaming in from the hole in the ceiling. This would go nicely on an good fancy archway, maybe a door into the hall proper? Hmm. He'll need to buy some more mithril ore, in that case.

Fion still doesn't seem to notice that Douglas has basically tuned out of the conversation. "Then the next week it was a flamethrower. Just, canisters of oil and nozzles and whatever spare parts! Some of it still had blood on it," he moans, aghast at the memory.

"So what did they get you today?" Douglas asks absently, placing the elegant swirling metal piece aside. His gaze wanders over to the heavy, lumpy knacksack that Fion hauled in with him, already ranting before he even made it through the doorway.

"I don't know," says Fion, head in his hands. "I don't want to know. Why did I agree to work for them? I should go back home, I haven't been back to the Grove in months."

Douglas tunes out the rambling once more as he gives the bag an experimental poke. It's soft, whatever it is. Squishy, almost. Something moist seeps through the canvas, and he wipes it off on a discarded blueprint absently.

"Huh," he says. "I think it might be another body part."

Fion whimpers.

Douglas leaves him to it as he looks back at his list. Their generous patrons had provided him a floor plan of how they want the whole area to turn out. A couple more lamp posts and he'll be done with the western side, he reckons.

Vaguely, he's aware of the rasp of unfurling canvas.

Fion shrieks. _"Is that a head?"_

Something hits the ground with a very heavy, very wet splat. "That's a head! Douglas Bird, they gave me a dolyak head!"

"It'll look nice up on a mantle?" Douglas offers.

It doesn't seem to help. Ah well. No one can say he didn't try.


End file.
